Tell Me The Story Of Us
by JacksonLynn
Summary: Hermione found herself in a situation she never thought she would be in. Married, quite unhappily, with a four year old. To make matters worse, upon realizing her abusive relationship is a sham, she slowly and unexpectedly falls in love with his best friend and her worst enemy. But what happens when their world is falling apart and her husband is gone? Can they find peace?
1. Chapter 1

"I told you in our second year, Malfoy, and I will tell you again now. Harry did not get onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team because he was _the Chosen One_. No one even knew about the prophecy at that point in time, if you remember." Hermione said in a slightly annoyed manner.

"Yes, but I know for a fact that he only got onto that team because he is Saint Potter." Draco replied, keeping his tone even. "You take sugar in your tea, right?" He looked over his shoulder at her sitting at his kitchen counter and caught her nod. With a small flick of his wand the cabinet door opened and the sugar came to her.

"I believe I also told you in our second year that no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in Malfoy, they got in on sheer talent. Unlike **you**." She spooned out three large scoops of sugar into her tea and stirred it with the shiny silver spoon waiting in the saucer. She eyed the spoon unhappily. That one silver utensil set probably cost more than her mother and father's entire house full of furniture.

Draco laughed under his breath as he turned from the cabinets, bringing with him a bowl full of Turkish Delights. "That hurts my feelings, Hermione!" He exclaimed with mock hurt on his face. "My father's generous gift of new brooms for the Slytherin team had absolutely nothing to do with my place on the team. As a matter of fact, I believe that he was planning on doing so before I decided I wanted to be a seeker." Snatching a Delight from the bowl, he laughed again, and threw it across the counter to her. His laugh was light and carefree, an anomaly that she hadn't seen in quite some time.

"_Generous gift?!_" She all but spat out her tea and she laughed at him. "The necklace Lucius gave me for my birthday last year was a generous gift. Those brooms were outright bribery and you know it. Admit it, Draco! If it had not been for those brooms, you wouldn't have been on that team and this rivalry between you and Harry wouldn't have been nearly as deadly as it ended up being."

He studied her for a minute, taking the spoon from his saucer and sucking the remaining honey from it thoughtfully. _She is taking this argument way too seriously. _He thought to himself and placed the spoon onto the counter. "Okay, Hermione. There are a few things that you need to know before we proceed with this afternoon. First of all, the rivalry between Saint Potter and myself would have been more deadly if we never got the chance to take out some of our aggression on the pitch. We hated each other and we will never be able to tolerate each other, regardless of the political situation of our world. Second off, my father is a good man, despite what you think about him, and his idea of a generous gift is far different from yours. The necklace he gave you for your birthday was somewhat of an insult. He would have given you something different had you happened to marry someone other than who you did. He had to give you something to avoid it looking bad on the Malfoy family and although Marcus probably never buys you things as lovely as that necklace, it isn't nearly as nice as some of the pieces Father has given to Mother or even that he gave to Victoria when we were betrothed." He waved down her protest with a wave of his hand and walked the length of the counter to where she was sitting on a stool, fuming at having to listen to his entire rant. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and forced her to look up into his eyes. "And finally, pet, we have one rule for this afternoon away from the rest of the world. I do not want to hear about your husband or your son or my family. I don't want to hear one mention of the girl I was supposed to marry or how she caught us together and we split up. I don't want to hear you complain about how my father paid her off with a rather embarrassingly large amount of gold to keep her mouth shut and not start a war between Marcus Flint and myself over you. That would be far more embarrassing for my family considering the scandal you caused four years ago when you had Zackary and Marcus forced you to marry him out of guilt. Do you understand me?"

She sucked in a deep breath and pouted her lip, her eyes darkening. "Yes." She whispered. She couldn't help but smile a little as he leaned down to kiss her pouted lips and then snuggled her, breathing in the scent of her curls.

Draco woke up that evening still wrapped up in the scent of Hermione's perfume and the feeling of her skin against his. He had to force himself not to be disappointed when rolled onto his side only to find her gone and the imprint of her body fading from the silken green sheets slowly. He cursed Marcus inwardly as he rolled out of bed, strolling naked across his room and then to his bathroom down the hall. Marcus Flint was probably the luckiest son of a bitch that Draco had ever known. Although Marcus wasn't nearly as handsome as Draco and had never done anything smooth off of a broomstick, he had somehow ended up marrying the most beautiful girl that either of them had ever known.

Flint never pretended to love Hermione. He made it perfectly clear to Draco the night the news had hit their circle of friends that he didn't love the muggleborn and had no intention of actually staying faithful to her in this marriage that was being forced up them both by his family.

"The key to this whole scheme," Flint had revealed to Draco who, at the time, Flint considered his closest friend. "Is that she never realized how I really feel about her. She is so fucking headstrong that it's depressing. I have no ability to charm or lead her in any way... And really, Draco, that's why it's so hard for me to care about her. She is her own person in so many ways. How can she be a part of a relationship, a duo, if she is so herself?" Flint had had far too much to drink and then began to cry a little while Draco watched on in horror.

Draco splashed water onto his face and let the sharp sting of freezing cold linger on his skin for a moment before patting himself dry with the emerald green towel to his right. He stood and admired his naked figure in the full length mirror on his door. Playing Quidditch every day with Puddlemore United kept him in good shape for his encounters with Hermione. He longed to hear her soft singing from the shower as he stood in the silence of his empty bathroom. At first he had considered this an annoying habit but in time began to long for the husky sound of her voice missing notes in the fog.

He had been twenty at the time when Hermione became pregnant and was the best man at the wedding, a ceremony that was far too large and gaudy for both Draco and Hermione's taste. Madame and Master Flint had insisted on making the wedding as showy as possible to mask the fact that both Hermione and Marcus never wanted to be married in the first place. The idea behind the whole thing being that if it was that beautiful, of course it was on purpose and no one should say otherwise. No one did.

Within seven months Hermione gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who she named Zackary James Flint. She argued until she could hardly breathe that the middle name would be James after one of the greatest wizards who had ever lived. Eventually, Marcus gave in and let her have her way, silently cursing her. The single thing that Marcus and Hermione would ever agree on was how much they loved that little boy. Marcus proudly stating to anyone who would listen that Zackary was the best thing he had ever made and the most attractive child on the face of the planet. For roughly a year things were in a state of frozen bliss in which Hermione and Marcus focused on the well being of baby Zack and trying to make things work in the manor home the Flint family had bought for them to live in.

Draco walked slowly back to his bedroom, feeling the soft carpet beneath his feet and the wind on his pale naked body. There were a few perks to living alone, one of them being the freedom to strut around in complete nudity whenever he felt the urge to do so. He thought sadly to himself that if Hermione had married him instead of Marcus that he would still be able to walk around naked and he doubted very seriously that she would mind.

It was the night of Zackary's first birthday party that everything fell apart and, strangely enough, into place for them all. Draco showed up to the party an hour late, having had to help Victoria pick out an outfit and assure her for what felt like the hundredth time that they would not be staying very late. Draco adored little Zackary and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible but had to agree with Victoria when she said that Marcus and Hermione were depressing and made her never want to get married.

The torture started as soon as they arrived. They found a slightly frantic Hermione rushing around trying to keep things together, much to Marcus's amusement. Marcus sat back and played with Zackary lazily, puffing under the attention of one of Victoria's friends that had come to the party. She had dated Marcus for a brief time before he had married Hermione but both Draco and Victoria doubted very highly that Hermione had any knowledge of that union. Hermione didn't notice them talking quietly or the soft giggles the veela girl had let slip as Marcus's hand slid up her dress during the dinner. Hermione was too busy trying to make sure that Zackary didn't fall off the toy broom Harry had sent for him or that when he did finally manage to fall and scraped up his hands that he knew he was safe. Hermione did not notice when the party ended and their friends and family all said their cheerful goodbyes that Marcus was nowhere to be found. Draco had left a half hour before, taking quiet note that Marcus and the veela girl had slipped quietly up the stairs while Hermione chatted with her mother, soothing Zackary's still scared face.

Draco heard this story two hours later when Hermione apparated to his house, sobs racking her small figure. She hit his door hard with her tiny fists, shaking the whole frame. He answered with his wand raised, expecting perhaps his Aunt Bella whom he hadn't seen in years. Her rage matched that of Bellatrix Lestrange and he found himself taking a couple of steps back as she entered his home. Draco had still never gotten used to the idea of his friend dating his second worst enemy and never really got over the shock of her being around at all the social functions.

"May I help you Hermione?" He asked, lowering his wand and upon taking in the look on her face, trying to be civil.

"Tell me Malfoy," She whispered to him, uttering his name like it tasted fowl in her mouth. "What it is that I have done to you to make you hate me so much that you have done this to me."

"Excuse me?" Draco spat, already growing tired of the pleasantries.

"I know you hate me. I know Victoria hates me. I can understand why. I'm not like you. I don't come from this world and no one wants me here." Her voice cracked. "But why would you do this to me? What did I do to you that made you bring that woman to our home? We were doing alright finally Draco..." She began to sob in earnest. Her legs gave out and he rushed forward to grab her, lowering her to the ground and sitting next to her on the hardwood floor. "We were finally doing alright, getting along. I was starting to think that maybe we could make this work after all. We were beginning to make love again. It wasn't just all about giving him head before he got up for work or letting him get a quick shag in when he happened to catch me in the shower."

She stopped herself and started to cry fresh tears. Her entire body shook as she cried and he remembered thinking, _my__ god, she really is beautiful._

Her hair fell around her face in dark curls and her skin looked breakable and fragile in the dim light from his kitchen. She had always been small, standing only five foot three and weighing only one fifteen at the very most but now she was tiny, having lost all of her baby weight and then nearly fifteen more pounds. She looked so broken and lost sitting on his foyer floor, crying to him, telling him about the short comings of the marriage she had forced upon her.

He let her cry for a moment longer, getting most of the large waves of despair out before he spoke. "What did Marcus do, Hermione?"

"I let my mother take Zack for the night. I thought that perhaps I could use the alone time with Marcus to make it up to him for being so distant all afternoon." Draco rolled his eyes inwardly, knowing very well that Hermione had been anything but distant on that day. "I couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. I thought he may have already gone to bed so I ran upstairs, taking off my clothes as I went and when I got there, I flung the door open. I said to him _'Now that we've got the first birthday out of the way, how about we start trying to make another one.' _And there he was... With her..." She started crying again, but softer this time. "He had that – tramp – bent over our bed. Our marriage bed as husband and wife, Draco. He just looked up at me and she kind of giggled but they didn't break stride."

Draco stared at her, dumbfounded. He never thought that Marcus would stoop as low as to cheat on his wife at their son's first birthday party. "I'm sorry, Hermione." He whispered, reaching his hand out to touch her shoulder.

She jerked away, looking both hurt and shocked. "You brought her to our house, Draco! You knew what she was going to do. I know you want us to separate but don't you think there would be a better way to get that to happen than for me to catch him? Didn't you think of what this little scheme would do to our son?" She was nearly screaming now, merely inches from his face.

"I didn't do this to you Hermione. This was all Marcus's stupidity taking over." He said, looking into her eyes, hoping for her to see the honesty in his.

"Stupidity?" Hermione asked dimly.

"He's a fucking moron, pet." Draco whispered, putting his hand through her curls and pulling her to him. He kissed her then, long and deep. They made love on the hardwood floor in his foyer and Hermione felt more alive than she ever had under his rough hands.

The affair had started but their story was far from over.

Draco began to dress in his room, his mind still racing over the stolen afternoon. Hermione had claimed that she was going to her mother's house with Zackary for the day. She had dropped Zackary off at her mother and father's and told them she needed some time alone with Marcus. They were both aware that something was wrong in their daughter's marriage but they had no idea the extent of the situation. No one aside from Draco did.

Marcus still believed Draco to be his very best friend and told him everything about his extravagant personal life, the wild sex, the late night parties and trips across the country – all without his wife. He told him every time he planned on sneaking away in the darkness and when he planned on returning, made Draco promise not to reveal a thing to his wife when she came knocking, asking questions. He even went so far as to have Draco swear to keep Zackary and Hermione busy and entertained while he was away on "business". Draco made that oath as a friend and realized just how easy it was to fall in love with his best friend's wife.

It had started with the one incident in his foyer and she had stayed through the night, sleeping soundly in his arms. He hadn't wanted her to leave the next morning but knew that both Marcus and Victoria would begin to worry when the two of them were nowhere to be found.

"Thank you Draco. You did something wonderful for me last night. I'll make sure no one hears about this." She turned to walk out the door, grabbing her bag. He felt a pang of fear rise up in him as she walked out of his home. He was surprised to find as he mulled over the fear he had so strongly felt that it was not the anxiety of her spilling their secret but of him not seeing her again.

Hermione slid her hands down her shirt, smoothing out some of the wrinkles she had acquired letting it be torn from her body and thrown to the hardwood floor of Draco's bedroom. She fingered the hem of the flimsy shirt all too aware of small purple bruise forming on her hip. Her eyes scan the marking and find his teeth pressing themselves perfectly into her alabaster skin. To the eyes of Marcus or Zackary it would look as if she had bumped into the stand in the front hall, a clumsy wife and mother.

Zackary snored softly from the large king sized bed she shared with her husband. He lay on his side, soft brown curls having fallen into his eyes. She silently wishes to herself that he had light blond hair and blue eyes instead, that she had somehow made the right decision before she messed up both of their lives. Her eyes scan the mirror and she adds a little bit more powder to her face, hiding slightly bruised lips still raw from kissing.

_It's easy to wish his father was Draco now. _She thinks to herself, turning and going to scoop Zackary up. _It wasn't always this easy to admit that I love him._

She holds him in both of her arms, his chin resting on her shoulder and his weight distributed evenly with hers. "I could easily be a single parent. I do all the work as it is. Where is Marcus tonight? I bet I could have stayed at Draco's house all night and brought Zackary and no one would have even noticed I was gone." She sighs to herself as she pushes Zack's door open with her foot. His bed is pressed up against the window and she easily lays him down. Zackary had always been a thin child, the product of a thin mother and a father who was built like a Quidditch player. He ran nearly as soon as he walked and spent a good portion of his time on a broom by the time he was able to stand. Marcus and, surprisingly, Draco as well had always delighted in flying with him and teaching him the game. The result being a very strong love for Quidditch as well as both men. Hermione was certain that at this time either could pass as his father to his little four year old mind, as they both spent ample amounts of time with him. She was also very certain that if not for the love Marcus felt for Zack that she would have left after his first birthday. The day after had been explosive...

Marcus had been waiting at the kitchen table for her when she got home. He was sipping on his morning pumpkin juice and reading The Daily Profit. She stepped into the kitchen and quickly took in the scene before her. Zackary, still a baby at this point, was playing quietly in a playpen near Marcus. He had a wooden block clutched in his chubby little hand and was smacking the side of the pen with it curiously. Marcus coughed harshly and broke her intense stare at the baby. It became apparent to her that he had set the room up this way on purpose, putting himself between her and Zack.

She didn't say a word, she hardly breathed as she looked into Marcus's eyes He had a tight smile on his face and a look in his eye that she had never seen before. Hermione became aware of her wand tucked into her waist band and steadied herself. She put her foot forward slightly and kindly smiled at him. He didn't move but she could sense his muscles tightening. She broke into a sprint, trying to reach her son before he could touch her. She knew if she could just get to Zackary that it would be okay. She would have her wand and her son and they could leave, she could escape. She didn't have time to think about where she would go or what she would do. She only had time to run.

He caught her around the middle before she was even three steps from her starting position. She tried to struggle from him but he squeezed her tighter, making it difficult for her to breathe as he caught her ribs in his arms. Years of Quidditch and training as a Death Eater only made his will like steel.

"Where were you last night, Hermione?" He whispered into her ear, careful not to make a struggle so Zack didn't start to cry.

"Please, Marcus, please. I just want Zackary. You can tell them anything you want, make up any lie... Say we died in an accident. I will disappear off the face of the earth if you want, Marcus, just please, please, let me have my baby." She began to cry, struggling wildly to get out of his arms.

Zack looked up from his playpen and took in the situation with his dark brown eyes, the eyes of his father, and then began to cry. Marcus sighed heavily and turned her to face him. She was like a rag doll in his hands. He surveyed her carefully and then smacked her hard across the face. She went still instantly, fearing for her life as well as her small child's.

"Listen up, Hermione. I don't really care where you were last night nor do I care where you decide to go." He let her slide from his arms to the floor. Neither of them had been aware that she had been nearly a foot from the ground in his grasp. She opened her mouth to protest, to thank him, relief sweeping over her body. She turned from him to go to Zack, cradle him. "But when it comes to Zackary, I really, really do care. He is the heir to the Flint fortune and the only boy to carry on the name, my only son. Sure, I could have other sons, but he is the first and my oldest and he will stay with his father." She picked Zack up and held him tightly in her arms. He quieted almost instantly, snuggling deeper into his mommy's hold. "I will let you know now that whoever you were with last night must not be seen again. I will not have you embarrassing me or my family further. I warn you, if you decide to take my son, I will tell everyone you left and I will kill you. They will never find your body, Hermione. You will not have my son." Marcus walked over to her, and she shivered involuntarily as she clutched Zack to her. He kissed Zack's forehead and then moved a little closer to kiss hers.

Hermione closed the door quietly behind her, trying not to wake her sleeping toddler and walked back down the hallway to her room. She wondered again where Marcus was and silently prayed that he wouldn't be coming home that night. She decided to skip dinner and go straight to bed. It had been years since Marcus and she had been intimate but she never felt quite safe sharing a bed with him. The truth was that she spent a good portion of her time away from their home and so did he. He no longer noticed she was gone and she never questioned where he was. Their marriage was a sham and she felt the need to keep it up for her sake as well as for Zackary's. She was happy with the stolen time she had with Draco and knew that she cared for him more than she should. She hoped he returned at least half of her feelings but knew it was something she shouldn't hope for. She had abstained from sex with her husband out of fear at first but after some time it became out of respect and love for Draco that she only bedded him. The irony made her laugh sometimes, being faithful only to the man who is not your husband. She laughed as she folded down the covers and climbed into the bed.

Hermione was finally beginning to drift into sleep when she heard a soft tap on her window. She nearly dismissed it but thought instead about how Marcus may be trying to reach her by owl and groggily stood. She walked, half asleep, to the window and opened it just enough for the small owl to get inside. She recognized the creature as one that belonged to her mother-in-law and stopped before pulling the knot from its leg.

"What could Madame Flint want to tell me at this hour?" She said aloud. She unrolled the parchment and gasped, clutching her chest. She let it fall from her hands and turned to sprint out of the door and to Zackary's room, not bothering to be quiet.

The parchment flitted to the floor and lay there harmlessly as the owl hooted and flew out the window once more. The note was written in Madame Flint's handwriting, scribbled quickly and small flecks of blood singed the edges of the page. Her words were short and more important than anything Hermione could have heard.

**Marcus is dead Take Zackary**

**RUN**

Draco ate dinner in silence, his mind wandering about in the usual manner it did after he spent an evening with Hermione. He knew it was nearly midnight when he finally finished and set the dishes in the sink for in the morning. In any other pure blood household there would be house elves doing this work but he knew Hermione hated the entire enslavement of the elves and he made a point just to magic it all away himself and save the elves trouble.

There was a faint pop from his living room and then a sudden scream. He became aware of a child crying as he rounded the corner and found Hermione standing in the center of the room, Zackary is her arms. She was swaying slightly and Draco rushed to her, pulling both herself and the child to him to embrace them. She stood only a second there before forcing Zack into his arms and pulling her wand from her coat pocket. She walked across the house, whispering protection spells under her breath and sealing off the entire property.

She had hardly finished when Draco caught her arm in his hand, shifting Zack's weight to his left arm letting him put his little head on Draco's shoulder. "Hermione, what's happened?" Draco said aloud, hoping against all hopes that she had just left Marcus.

"We'll need to leave tonight Draco. The spells I cast are mediocre at best and we'll need to leave here tonight. Malfoy Manor would be ideal but I'm not sure how your parents would react to me and Zack being there. We can't go to the Flint Manor, it's already been taken and I will not risk losing my baby -"

"What is going on Hermione?" He cut her off, speaking more fiercely this time. "You can't just show up here like this in the middle of the night and not expect me to wonder what is happening. Did Marcus hurt you? Where is he? Why do you look like someone has just kicked your Hippogriff?"

"Marcus is dead, Draco. His mother sent me an owl telling me to take Zackary and run." She paused, letting this sink in. "She would never have instructed me to take Zackary had the situation not been dire. If she knew that she would live through this night she would have told me to bring Zackary to her immediately. The Flint Manor is gone, I'm sure of it. We need to get to your parent's house as soon as possible." Hermione stood tense, listening around them for any sign of danger, her muscles tense, her stature poised to spring at any moment.

"Hermione..." He paused a moment, redistributing Zack's weight in his arms. "Why did you come here?" She looked up at him quizzically. "It's not that I don't want you here, I just always assumed that when you left the Flint Manor forever that you would go directly to Saint Potter or Weaselbee. I thought you would take Zackary and run to them, pretend we never were together."

She smiled to herself and walked the few steps between them. "Draco, we never were together before now. Not really." Hermione kissed him then and he pulled her body closer to his in the dim light of his living room. They were both aware that this kiss was the first they shared that had any promise of a real life behind it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione's hands were shaking as she, Draco, and Zackary stepped up to the front doorstep of the sprawling mansion. The grounds to this estate could easily be as large as some of the small villages she had visited during the Wizarding War while she was in hiding. Zackary had finally fallen asleep in her arms, although she couldn't understand how. She clasped him hard to her body under the thick woolen blanket she had covered him in. They hadn't brought anything with them to Draco's home and stood now without anything they had acquired in the last four years. Draco hadn't bothered to pack a bag or grab anything aside from his wand. He had taken the time to let his owl out of its cage, telling it to meet him at his parent's manor. She had hardly noticed that in the haste of running to the kitchen to take care of the other tasks, he had also stopped momentarily to summon an elf. She overheard as he whispered an urgent command for them to go to his parent's house for safe keeping. In that moment, she was more than sure that she had made the right decision to come to him instead of The Burrow this time.

He raised his arm and knocked heavily on the solid oak doors. Hermione fought down a shudder, thinking about entering Malfoy Manor once again. In recent years she had only been there for social functions that she couldn't find a way to get out of. More often than not, Draco hosted any get together that meant anything to her. Quidditch parties were her favorite by far because that meant Harry, Ginny, and Ron would also be there. She mused over their chance meeting and how some sort of strange fate had brought all of them together. _Fate? _ Her inner monologue laughed. _Who the hell am I kidding, Quidditch brought us all together._ Harry and Draco had joined Puddlemore United in the same draft and both had fought viciously for the spot of first string Seeker. Harry, of course, had gotten first string and Draco took second, albeit somewhat bitterly. Hermione hadn't been close with him at the time, just passing acquaintances through Harry, she did feel bad for him and celebrated in his honor when he finally went out for the first string Keeper position and turned out to be surprisingly good. Harry and Draco slowly became friends, although the rivalry still remained strong and a large part of their relationship was based on relentless teasing and torment, although now it was mostly in good humor.

The very first time she had been dragged to Draco's parents' house for a Quidditch party had been one of the most influential nights of her short life. This was before he had moved out on his own and the master and mistress of the house had been out for some reason for a long weekend. She had been nineteen, fresh from her last year at Hogwarts, opting to stay through even after the war had finished. She wanted to spend the fall study period enjoying herself and the freedom of being able to walk through Diagon Alley and not fear for her life. Harry and Ron had decided not to finish school, both trying out different paths. Ron went directly to the Auror Academy, surprising everyone with his proficient skills. He rose quickly through the ranks during training. Harry had mulled over the idea of Auror training but, in the end, decided to work for Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes for a while as he tried to get drafted for a professional Quidditch team. No one aside from Hermione really understood the logic behind these decisions or how the two boys seemed to swap ideals entirely. Harry had always seemed to want to escape the limelight so it was hard for some to comprehend why he would catapult his entire life right out into the open for the whole of the wizarding world to see. She assumed it felt good for him to want to be noticed for all the right reasons, not because he was the Boy Who Lived. Somehow, this logic worked. Although no one ever forgot who he was, in time, the general public began to love him for an entirely new reason. Ron, however, wanted to be known by people who mattered, namely, officials in the ministry and in the Auror office who mattered. These people saw him in an altogether new light. No longer was he a part of the golden trio or Harry Potter's blundering sidekick, he was a trained and lethal agent for the Ministry of Magic, an essential asset to their world's survival.

Hermione mulled over the confident young woman that she had once been standing on this very doorstep, Harry knocking on the door instead of Draco. Her hair was shorter then, hardly touching her shoulders and her cheeks had been pink with the few shots of firewhiskey they had taken before leaving Harry's flat. Now her cheeks were red from the biting cold of the wind mixed with an anxiety she hadn't felt in years. She shifted Zack's weight from one side of her body to the other and wondered why it was taking the elves so long to answer the door. Draco raised his arm to knock again and she noted the strain in his body, how he stood tense, ready to pounce at any moment if need be. There was movement behind the door and he moved to place himself in between her, the baby, and whatever may be waiting on the other side. A small part of her expected to see a vision from the past standing there in front of her. She swallowed air and wished that a nineteen year old Draco Malfoy would swing the door open, shirtless and smiling brightly the night they had first arrived at his home.

As the door opened, Lucius' face appeared illuminated in the dark and she had to fight the urge to scream. Nightmares of the war were still ever present in her mind. Lucius Malfoy, along with his wife, Narcissa had been highly reformed during the war. It seems that Narcissa's final acts to save Harry's life, however selfish they had been, had been enough for the Wizangott to clear the charges against them in favor of setting a good example. Regardless of the good and honest name that Draco had tried to make 'Malfoy' into, Hermione still woke with fear some nights. On occasion, she would still wake up muffling frightened screams, the faces of the Malfoy family and Bellatrix Lestrange very vivid in her mind, haunting her.

"Draco?" Lucius' cold voice rang out, clearly confused. He eyed his son suspiciously in the light of the night. Then his eyes settled on Hermione, shivering against the cold, holding her four year old tight to her body. He raised an eyebrow as if to question her standing there and the infamous Malfoy smirk could be seen. Their eyes met and she knew that he was very aware why she was there along with her son. "Ah, the young Mrs. Flint, why this is a surprise. Please, do come in." Lucius' tone was as light and conversation as if he was inviting them in for tea, always the pleasantries, even if it was nearly three in the morning. He moved from the doorway and let them pass into the house. Even in the shelter of their home, the cold could still be felt in the air here.

"Father," Draco began, turning to shake his hand as the door shut behind them. "Something has happened. Marcus is –"

"Dead," Lucius cut him off before he could finish and caught Draco's hand in his for a quick shake. He clasped it with his other and held it there for a second. "I know. The news reached us not an hour ago." He turned to Hermione as he let Draco's hands fall. "I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Flint. I know that you and Marcus had had a rough patch some years ago but I do trust that he will be sorely missed by both you and Zackary." His eyes found Zackary's sleeping form and Hermione fought down the urge to shield him from Lucius' gaze. Lucius had been nothing but a kind and caring man since the end of the war, showering Zackary with gifts and even going so far as to aid she and Draco in hiding their affair. Yet, somehow, she didn't trust him still. Somewhere in those grey eyes, she felt as if a fresh new venom lay dormant.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. That is very kind of you to say." She found herself choosing her words carefully.

"Yes," He turned his piercing gaze back to his son. "Well, what can I do for you at this late hour, Draco? I am not quite sure how the death of the late Master Flint has much to do with you, however untimely or unfortunate the situation may be." Draco opened his mouth to speak, his brows crinkling in defense. _Surely he knew this entire line of questioning was a trap from the moment he started to speak. _Hermione thought to herself sharply, her eyes darting between the two men in front of her. The unsettling dread of being in Malfoy Manor in the time of panic seemed to become harder for her to bear. Nervously, she shifted her weight from foot to foot and, out of habit, her eyes scanned the room to be sure that there was not another's presence with them in the room.

"This could very quickly become a dangerous situation, father. What do you know about Marcus' death?"

"No more than you, I'm sure."

Draco toyed with his wand nervously under his cloak. He seemed to still be tense, more so than Hermione could remember seeing him in years. "Well, as we know absolutely nothing about how he died, or anything that is happening in our world for that matter, I would assume that you have a better grasp on the situation than either of us at this moment."

"Draco, really, I don't think that now is the time to discuss this –"

"I can guarantee that whatever information you have on this subject or any involving the events of this night would be highly appreciated news to both Hermione and me. The biggest lead on the occurrences of this night or Marcus' death came in the form of a rushed and half ruined note from Marcus' mother, whom I'm assuming is also no longer with us." His voice rose and rang throughout the overly large front hallway. She shot him a warning glare and his eyes followed her to Zackary, asleep now more from exhaustion than anything else, he guessed.

Lucius took in his son for a moment, his eyes never really leaving the outline of Draco's hand on his wand beneath the cloak. The tension in the room had risen considerably in the last few minutes. For a moment, everything was silent aside from short bursts of wind being heard outside. Something inside Lucius' head seemed to click and he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, Draco, if you want to have this discussion in front of the widow Flint at this ungodly hour, far be it from me to extinguish that urge. I am also assuming that the three of you wish to spend the evening here with your mother and myself?" He didn't pause to see the reaction. "You may sleep in the west wing tonight. I will send an elf to make up three rooms for you." Lucius motioned with his wand as an elf appeared with a small pop.

"Mr. Malfoy, could you please make those two rooms instead of three?" Hermione asked timidly. "I would much prefer to Zackary to sleep with me tonight."

"Of course," He replied, turning back to the elf. "Twiz, please make up two of our guest rooms for my son and Mrs. Flint. They will be arriving to their rooms shortly, please arrange for there to be hot tea and biscuits waiting in each room for them when they do." The elf disappeared with a pop, leaving Lucius staring at the spot where he had stood, nearly lost in thought.

"Father, thank you for allowing us to stay tonight in the Manor," Draco said, bringing his hand up to touch his father's shoulder. The touch seemed to bring Lucius back to his original train of thought. To an untrained eye, it would seem as if Lucius had finally let age affect his mind. Both Hermione and Draco knew better than to believe that a former Deatheater would ever let something dull his senses or his quick wit.

"It will no doubt be much safer than either of your homes. The other option, of course, being that you could spend the evening with the Weasley or Potter family in one of their homes. It will be more comfortable for you to stay here with your mother and myself. She will be very pleased to see you when she wakes in the morning. Now, for the reason I didn't want to have this conversation in front of Mrs. Flint. Draco, I trust that you are aware of the extra marital affair that Marcus had been having in the past six months?"

"Hermione is aware that Marcus has been… Less than faithful," Draco said carefully.

The two men stared at each other uneasily for a moment. This house was very obviously never one where feelings could easily be discussed. "Mr. Malfoy, everyone in this room knows what my marriage actually was. Marcus and I were two very different people. What started as a summer romance when I was nineteen became something very different. My husband didn't love me. I thought when I was young and also very blind, that I loved him but since then, I have come to realize that what I felt for Marcus was not love in any way. He was the father of my little boy and for that I will forever be grateful. Aside from that, I have a hard time saying that Marcus and I shared so much as a common respect for each other. He never tried to hide his relationships with other women, nor did I ask him to. He never became aware of the one relationship I had outside of our marriage." His eyebrow lifted as he took in her speech. It was not unnoticed. "Yes, just the one relationship. That instance was the only time I had ever been unfaithful to my husband in any way. I hope you do not find that hard to believe. Please, do believe me when I say that any information that you may have to give me tonight will not surprise me in the least, nor will it offend me."

"Very well, Mrs. Flint, I will tell you everything. In the past six months, Marcus had begun to see one woman very steadily. You both know her, Draco, you more so than Mrs. Granger." Draco's eyes widened slightly as he took in the implication. "Victoria and Marcus had become very close. Some could even say that Marcus was falling in love with that girl and she with him. It would have been a very good match if it not for the fact that you two were once engaged and he was very much married with a child. You know that Victoria's family is an old and rather dark pure blood family centralized in another part of Europe. In most recent days, it would seem that Marcus had been spending a lot of his spare time with both Victoria and her family. I don't believe they had any knowledge of either you or Zackary or if they did, most likely the thought process would be to have you taken care of and they would raise Zackary after they were married." Hermione looked outraged, wrapping her arms more securely around Zackary to shield him. Draco features tighten with anger at this, his hand reaching for Hermione in the dark of the corridor. Without hesitation, she gave her hand to his and took a step closer to him, feeling his grip tighten around her fingers. "I know that you both would have fought that notion very much." Lucius continued, his eyes finding their conjoined hands and smirking to himself. "Although Marcus was entirely blind to the feelings between the two of you, neither of you did a very good job of hiding it to everyone else who knows you. The Potters and I have had numerous conversations about the situation in the past. Please believe me when I say to you that if Marcus or Victoria had tried to harm you or Zackary in any way they would have been met with a resistance they never knew would come or could hope to fight. It is also for this reason that you must know that you are very safe in Malfoy Manor."

Hermione found herself shaking slightly at the implications laid before her. Draco pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Father, I do appreciate that." He spoke quietly, his jaw clenched in quiet anger.

"We both do, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you," Hermione added in a hushed tone.

"While I find your gratitude very touching, Mrs. Flint, it isn't necessary. I have been for the past three years trying to avoid a very serious conflict between Draco and your late husband. We could all see my son reaching a breaking point every time Marcus slighted you in any way. Very valiant of you, Draco, indeed, but not very wise. Marcus may have been a dull boy but he had very powerful connections. Ultimately, this is what led to his death, I believe. There has been a terror cell growing in other parts of the country for some time now. Not much is known about their whereabouts or their purpose, but we do know that Victoria's family was very much sewn right into the seams of this organization. Recently, I have received a few visitors trying to sway me to join them. I, of course, refused. They did not take this well, I can assure you. I believe that Marcus and his family have been swept up into one of the latest plots of this group. When it went wrong, Marcus was killed in the act and his mother and father slaughtered in their home. It is a miracle that Madam Flint had time to owl in the first place to warn you. No doubt, you and Zackary would have been the next targeted."

The house elf, Twiz, appeared again at Lucius' side. "Master, the rooms are ready for Master Draco and his guest." He squeaked.

"Very well, Draco, you know where the rooms are located. I am going to retire to my room, your mother will be aware that I am missing soon. On a normal evening, I would never answer the door for visitors. Luckily for the two of you, I have been very awake for the last few hours, answering owls about this very situation. I had a feeling I would see you both within the night." He turned to leave quickly, making his way down the corridor and into the darkness away from them.

Draco led Hermione up the main stairway away from the way his father had taken. Several minutes later, they reached two rooms opposite each other at the end of a hallway. Two lights had been left on near the doors to lead them to their destination. Draco didn't give her the chance to enter her separate room, instead taking her hand and guiding her into his room, locking the door safely behind them for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

_She ran through the forest, her breath ragged in her throat. It felt like her chest was on the verge of collapsing into itself and every inch of her insides burned with the fire of being out of shape. She yearned for a spell to set herself right again or even her childhood inhaler, aimed to cure a slight bout of asthma. Behind her, she could hear the shouts of Deatheaters, quick in their pursuit and the footfalls of her friends. They were somewhere and she hoped that they wouldn't be far behind, prayed they had somehow beaten the odds and kept up with her slight head start. _

_There were more shouts, closer this time, one in victory it would seem and one in defeat as someone hit the ground. She didn't dare to turn around or to chance a look behind her. Her legs were beginning to ache with the force of her running, her calf muscles ripping to shreds with each footfall. Another thud behind her and the curse that was heard was unmistakable. This time she stopped, turning to face her attackers. For a moment, the only sound she could hear was her own as she struggled to regain her breath, her wand held tightly in her hand. She fought hard to keep her bravery high although her heart was racing and her eyes wide with terror. For a moment, she felt like she was five years old again, lost in the department store after being separated from her parents. That fear had been raw and fresh, the first time she had thought to fear for her own life. Now again in this forest, she felt the same wave of agony rise up inside her, afraid again that her very existence would be challenged. _

_She closed her eyes momentarily and breathed deeply through her mouth, exhaling through her nose. She heard the footsteps first, but the smell soon reached her as well. Her mind raced, trying to place this particular scent. So strong it was in her memory that it made the little hairs on her arm stand on end. _

_Hermione's eyes opened slowly to reveal them before her. She had the overwhelming urge that this had happened to her before, only last time it was different somehow. Ron and Harry lay bound on the ground, ropes cutting into their bodies with each knot. They had both been disarmed, she noticed. The sword they had had moments ago was now in the hands of a man she did not recognize, although he stood over Ron in a predatory manner, his wand aimed directly at him. Above Harry, another nameless man did the same. Somewhere between the two, but most certainly closer to Hermione, the only one she recognized stood. Fenrir Greyback bared his teeth momentarily at her and then seemed to catch her scent as the breeze flitted through her tangled curls. He sniffed the air and smirked. _

_She shook her head again, sure this wasn't right. It was almost like she was stuck in a dream. She was sure she had been here before but it had not been like this last time. She only had a moment to think on it as he hunched his back over, looking as if he were about to attack. Instinctively, she raised her wand high, taking a step back. _

"_I'm warning you. Don't come any closer!" Her voice quavered as she spoke. What was meant to sound fierce and defiant came out as terrified. The nameless two laughed behind Fenrir as he took a step closer. Harry and Ron both screamed into the gags around their mouths and Ron began to struggle in earnest against his bindings. This earned him a swift kick in his side from the one holding him. _

"_What have we here?" Fenrir said aloud, sniffing the air again. Hermione's hands began to tremble and she took a stumbled step backwards. _

"_Let's get these lot back to Malfoy Manor; I think The Dark Lord will want to hear about this one!" The one who guarded Harry called to them. _

"_In a minute," Fenrir growled. "This one is for me." He bent his body more out of shape, looking every bit of the monster he had let himself become and came towards her._

_She hastily took another step backward. From nowhere, a fallen branch appeared behind her. She tripped, falling hard on her backside. It seemed as if her thoughts began to slow as she pondered how that branch had sure not been there before. At the same time she wondered about why this horrible moment seemed completely wrong to her, out of place from her memory. In an instant, she came out of her thought to realize that he was on her, charging with sharpened teeth bared. Hermione raised her hands to cover her face and allowed herself to scream. In the background she could hear Ron and Harry yelling her name._

"_Hermione! Hermione!-"_

"Hermione!" She thrashed herself around, trying desperately to gain release from the arms holding her tightly. Her hand lashed out, catching someone hard across the face. She heard a sharp intake of breath and her eyes opened to reveal Draco sitting next to her in bed, his arms snaking their way around hers and his eyes wide.

"Draco? Where are we? What's happening?" Hermione whispered, calming herself and slumping into his arms. She began to cry, her face pressed into his bare shoulder.

"It was just a dream, love." Draco shushed into her hair, still holding her shaking form tightly to him. "It was only a very bad dream." After a moment she quieted, her sobs becoming less and less until she breathed heavily into him, taking in his warmth.

"We're at Malfoy Manor and we're safe," She whispered into his shoulder. "Marcus is dead and so is his family and we are safe. You took me and Zac-" Her voice stopped dead and she ripped herself away from him, searching the bedroom frantically. "Where is Zackary?" She climbed quickly out of the bed, fumbling to free herself from the heavy bed sheets and quilt. "Draco, where is Zackary?"

"He's with Mother in the playroom, Hermione. Calm down and come back to bed. We wanted you to sleep in a bit; you looked like you needed it. Father was quite right when he said that Mother would be pleased to see us. She was very glad to see me but completely over the moon when she realized that there was a playful four year old here who needed a substantial amount of love and attention all day. You know that Zack loves my parents. He hasn't left her side since I took him down for breakfast four hours ago." Draco patted the bed next to him and after a moment of consideration, Hermione climbed back in and fell into him. He wrapped his arms around her small frame easily and held her close to him, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her arm.

For a while they sat in silence, taking in the situation and everything that they had learned in the past night. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence though, Hermione thought pleasantly. It was one of the many things she liked about Draco and being in his company. She never felt the need to fill in the empty space with words and conversations for the sake of not sitting awkwardly with each other. It had been like this since they first began their relationship. If she thought back to before they had even begun seeing each other, when they were forced into a friendship, she realized it was the same even then. She always felt very comfortable in her own skin with him around. They could talk for hours, laughing or having serious discussion, it didn't matter. They also had the option to sit together and just enjoy the silence and the company of someone you feel a connection with.

Hermione found herself scanning the contents of the room while she listened to his soft breathing beside her. It had been very dark when they had first arrived and she had scarcely had the time to put Zackary in bed and get undressed before falling quickly to sleep. It was very bright from the third story bay windows but the sun seemed high. She made a guess that it was somewhere close to noon. The sheets were of a high thread count, cotton she guessed and the quilt was rich in greens and silver, but not uncomfortable and unlived in. The furniture all matched nicely in a deep brown cherry wood. She had expected no less, being the Mistress of a home much like Malfoy Manor, although on a much smaller scale. The paintings positioned across the walls were of various Malfoy family members, most of who seemed to be sleeping in their frames, having decided the pair of them were much to boring to pay attention to.

"So, what do we do now, Draco?" She asked finally, still studying one of the paintings on the far side of the room. This particular relative of his seemed to be generations before him or even his father. She could only guess what ridiculous name the Malfoys had thought would be fitting in that time period. Still, even though this person was long since dead, he had the same eyes as Draco, the same jaw line and cheek bones.

He sighed and squeezed her tighter to him. "I honestly don't know, Hermione."

The afternoon was getting along quickly; the sun had made its way nearly entirely across the sky. Zackary sprinted across the hallway, far more coordinated than any other four year old that Draco had ever seen. Not that he had spent any considerable amount of time with young children, but he would imagine that Zack somehow was better than all of the others regardless. He was, after all, the spawn of Hermione Granger and Marcus Flint. He couldn't imagine a better mix of genes if he himself had not been involved.

Draco had sent Hermione off to shower and had a house elf bring up an old bottle of wine and a glass. He knew that she rarely drank, but when she did, she preferred a sweet red or rose wine. Somehow he doubted that he would find any of that in the manor, he had requested something sweetened lightly for her taste, although she most likely wouldn't touch it. She never was one to dull her senses even a little when things in the world were tense.

"Draco!" Zack yelled as Draco stepped off of the steps and into the main foyer. Draco let an easy smile come to his face and he crouched down to snatch Zackary up in his arms. He threw the little boy into the air and caught him again as he came back down again. Zack giggled and clutched at Draco's neck, holding him tightly as he wrapped his legs around his waist.

"Hey little man," Draco said, kissing Zack's forehead. "Have you been having fun today?" He kept Zack tucked up in his arms as he walked into the kitchen.

"Yeah, we played all day today." Zack said, wiggling out of his grip and fighting to get down.

"Who did you play with today?" Draco took an apple off of the counter and bit into it.

"Grandmother and Grandfather," Zackary said, his dark eyes full of innocence. He smiled up at Draco who, in turn, quirked an eyebrow at him and then ran from the room. A moment later the sound of his laughter rang throughout the halls, it was mixed with that of his mother and father.

Draco followed him into the hall and found Zack running between his parents trying to catch a ball that they threw above his bed. This game of keep away seemed to enthrall him rather than enrage him as it had once for Draco.

"Father, may I speak to you in the kitchen?" Draco asked. Lucius' smile dropped momentarily as he noticed his son standing in the doorway. He straightened himself, seeming to pull the air of formality back and strolled to the kitchen, following Draco in. "You seem like you are having a lovely time this afternoon." He observed, closing the door behind the two of them.

"We thought it would be prudent to act as if nothing has changed when Zackary is present." Lucius replied, his pale complexion reddening slightly. He summoned a glass from the cupboards and an elf appeared to pour water into it. Looking away from his son, he took a drink. Draco noted that playing with Zackary all day seemed to have taken some of his energy away.

"Oh, yes, I would most agree, _Grandfather." _Draco knew that he had caught him. Lucius coughed on his water.

"Draco, we thought it would also be beneficial to get him more adjusted with the idea of being a part of this family as soon as possible. He may never be the Malfoy heir, obviously his younger brother would take that title as well as what comes with it, but we would like for him to feel as if he belongs as well. The simplest way to do that would be to quickly begin to replace his memories of Marcus and his family with memories of you and ours."

"Father," He didn't quite know where to begin. There were so many things wrong with the situation that the lines between normal and bizarre were starting to blur for him. "Father," He began again after much hesitation. Lucius watched him curiously over his glass of water, seeming to regain his composure. "What has made you believe that I will try to replace Marcus in Zackary's life? Or that he and Hermione will be a part of this family?"

"You're obviously in love with the Mistress Flint. It has been obvious to everyone but Marcus himself it may seem. The only logical conclusion is that you will ask Hermione to marry you now that she is a widow." Draco only stared, mouth agape. "You don't want to marry her?" Lucius asked, seemingly very surprised.

"Of course I want-" Draco sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I do love her. Truly, I do. That's not the problem."

"Then what seems to be your problem, Draco?" Lucius sat his glass on the edge of the marble countertop and approached his son. With a small pop, an elf appeared and took the glass away though neither of the men seemed to notice. "I don't mean to make assumptions about the relationship that you and she share but you must look at it from an outsider's point of view. In the same night that her husband and his family were murdered, you brought her and their son here. I, and my vault at Gringotts, are very aware of just how much you care for this woman. You gave up an engagement with someone you cared very deeply for. You were willing to give up a relationship with one of your oldest friends to be with her. I have no doubt in my mind that if I hadn't paid off Victoria to keep the situation quiet, that you would have let it all come to the public and had a very open dispute for her."

"I would have, yes. Honor is important to me, family is important, Victoria… She was very dear to me, you and Mother know that very well. I would have gladly given that all up for Hermione, that is true."

"Then why are you hesitant to marry the girl?" Lucius placed his hand on Draco's and their cold grey eyes met momentarily. When Draco supplied him with no answer, Lucius sighed, taking his hand back and left him standing alone in the kitchen.

"I'm afraid she doesn't feel the same," Draco muttered under his breath. He exhaled slowly and left his spot in the kitchen to join his parents and Zackary.

The vines were creeping up the side of the older building like hands. Years of steady neglect had turned the once beautiful structure into little more than a falling monument to past architectural achievement. Evening was beginning to fall and shadows fell across the grounds like yawning mouths, swallowing up everything in its darkness. No birds sung in this place.

A woman stepped carefully into the shadow, taking a moment to glance over her shoulder. Her footfalls were near silent as she walked, pulling her deep black cloak closer to her body, as if she were fighting a chill that only she could feel. She crossed the yard easily, her steps as light as dancing, her long legs easily taking the strides in quick pace. She reached the front facing of the decrepit building and her hand extended from the safety of her cloak. Her fingers were long and graceful, the skin visible from her wrist seemingly made of alabaster. She ran her fingers along the chipped brick, searching, until she found an indented spot a few bricks down. She took her wand from inside her cloak and raised it there, tapping a pattern on the brick, the final stroke falling into the indention. The wall in front of her seemed to melt away, crumbling in on itself until she stood before a door of deep mahogany wood. There were finely carved details around the frame; the knocker and handle were both made of polished silver. She drew back her hood and turned the door to enter. As the door shut, the wall rearranged itself and become brick once more.

The hallway inside was dark but she walked with purpose. Her eyes never had the time to adjust to the light but she walked through a path that she had obviously followed many times. The interior of the home was that of the vanishing door. The floors beneath her were a deep hardwood, very old and rich in color. Every detail in the home seemed to drip of old money, pureblood status. The walls were lined with silver frames, their occupants sleeping easily in their confines, unaware of the visitor. She walked quickly past many doors on either side but never stopped or slowed.

Finally, she reached the end of the hall and stepped through a walkway into a large room. A stone fireplace taller than she was stood at one end lit bright with flames, the glow casted a shadow across the room, illuminating bookshelves lining the walls. The colors in the room were rich reds and browns, comforting in the warm light. It danced across her fine blond hair, falling down her back and shoulders, framing her face. Her eyes were a deep green, spiking in lighter clover towards the center. She unfastened her cloak, letting it fall to the floor as she stepped out of it. Her frame was small, her limbs long and strong. She had the body of a ballet dancer, trained and perfected with her age.

"Victoria," A deep voice rang across the room, echoing off of the high ceilings. "Have you completed the task?"

She took a step forward, her features set firmly. "I did. I killed Marcus and his family."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summer 1999**

"Hermione, you look lovely!" Ginny Weasley shouted from her place on the couch. She had her long and tanned legs spread out across the length of it, propping herself onto the arm, a Quidditch magazine in her hands. Hermione shot her a nervous look, taking the last step from the staircase and crossing the small foyer quickly to reach her friend.

"Really, do you think so?" Her voice was hesitant. She ran her hands over the lacey top nervously, trying to straighten out wrinkles that weren't there.

"Yes, of course I do. He is going to be blown away when he sees you tonight." Ginny laid the magazine on her lap, the center article still open. She placed her knuckle under one side of her chin and tilted her head, popping her neck. She then proceeded to do the other side before bringing her thin hands to her copper hair and tightening the elastic band. She had cut it when she began to train with the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team at the beginning of the summer, much to Harry's dismay.

"Thanks, Gin. Any big plans tonight for you and Harry?" Hermione asked, reaching for the sandals she had tucked under the table.

"Actually no, I'm going to head to bed pretty soon. I have to be up in the morning for an early training session. These final rounds are getting pretty intense before the decisions for the team are made. I haven't had time to do much of anything, let alone going on dates or shagging." Ginny brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them giving Hermione the space to sit down. Hermione blushed crimson at Ginny's comment. She had always been a very outspoken girl but training with a professional team seemed to make her vocabulary blossom in a rather vulgar way. She sat at the end of the couch, sinking into the overstuffed cushions.

The furniture was all a mix matched assortment of colors and textures that had been given to the two girls throughout the summer when they moved into the small flat together. Although both Hermione and Ginny had received a sizeable sum from the Ministry of Magic for their aid in the fall of Voldemort, they both chose to put it in their respective vaults at Gringotts and live modestly. They chose a small two bedroom flat with a cramped living room and kitchen area as well as a washroom they shared. Ginny had requested Wales to be close to the Harpies training camp.

The last Quidditch match of her final season at Hogwarts Demelza Robins had invited Gwenog Jones to watch Gryffindor play against Ravenclaw. Gwenog had brought the rest of the team with her to the match in the name of sisterly Quidditch bonding and also to see their old teachers and school. Demelza had played Chaser for Gryffindor while Ginny played Seeker and also captained the team so, of course, they also saw her play.

The match was as fierce as it was long, lasting nearly three hours. Ravenclaw seemed to be blocking each of their advances, their Keepers staying true to each of the goals. Gryffindor's beaters kept the bludgers aimed steadily at each Ravenclaw chaser who, in turn, shot them angry looks while attempting to dodge. Ginny shouted orders from her corner of the pitch, seeming to have one eye trained on each of her team members and the other scanning the sky for the snitch. Harry, Hermione and Ron screamed themselves hoarse from the stands. The pitch was packed to the very brim, some patrons standing in the aisles, their faces painted with the colors of each of their houses. It seemed as if the whole of the wizarding world had come out to Hogwarts for the final match of the season. It was the first school year since the end of the wizarding war and Hogwarts seemed to be a rallying point with its youthful life. For many, it represented life coming back into their world.

At the end of the game, Ginny took a gravity defying dive, clinging to her broom with her thighs and outstretching her arms in unison to reach for the snitch. The whole of the crowd gasped, sure she would soon fall and plummet to her inevitable death. The seeker for the other team raced to her side of the pitch, trying desperately to reach her in time. She made a snatch and tumbled from her broom. In an instant, her wand was drawn from her robes and she flicked it swiftly, casting a charm on herself. For a moment she hung by her ankle like a hook had her locked in there, her flaming locks falling from the elastic and falling away from her body. The entirety of the stadium stared, as if suspend in the moment right along with her body. Each player stopped their brooms mid air to watch her. Ginny then opened her hand, revealing the snitch. Its wings uncurled from its form and fluttered excitedly. The crowd erupted into a solid roar of cheers from both sides. At the end of the game Gwenog strode confidently past Demelza to offer Ginny a position in the training camp for the coming summer. Hermione rushed to embrace Ginny as Gwenog walked away, passing a now crying Demelza to rejoin the rest of the Harpies.

Hermione looked across the couch at Ginny, feeling sorry for her good friend and flat mate. "I bet Harry isn't a fan of your schedule lately."

"No, he really isn't, I'm afraid. It's almost as if he doesn't remember what it was like for him when he first started the training camp. He would probably be a far bit more pleasant if I had decided to pick a different career path." She sighed and stretched out across the couch, placing her feet in Hermione's lap. "Rub my feet, please. Harry usually does but I haven't gotten to see him in nearly a week. I just got out of the shower, I promise they're clean." Hermione took one of her friend's feet into her hands and rubbed the sole and heel in rough circles. Ginny sighed and let her head drop backwards on the arm rest, closing her eyes. "When is Marcus going to be here?"

"He should be here any minute actually," She responded, moving to the ball of her foot and applying there.

"I don't mean to keep you from getting ready. I bet you have a lot more on your mind than my sore feet and relationship problems." Ginny muttered but still did not make a move to raise her head or open her eyes.

"To be honest, this has taken my mind off of my nervousness entirely." Hermione and Ginny both giggled quietly. The doorbell rang from inside the corridor. Both of the girls head's shot up to stare at the door. For a moment the air was thick with silence and Marcus rang the doorbell again. "And there it is all over again."

Hermione leapt to her feet leaving Ginny to nearly fall off of the couch in her haste. "Here, let me get the door. Stay in here, it will make you look like you are being busy." She nodded to her friend and watched her leap up from the couch and make her way to the door. From across the space, she could hear the door opening and the normal pleasantries being exchanges between the two of them.

Marcus stepped into the living space, Ginny making wild gestures about his appearance behind his back. He smiled his easy smile and the air disappeared from the room. Hermione smiled back, wrapping one arm around the other. She felt the blush rising up her chest and neck to her cheeks.

"You look lovely tonight," He said. His eyes travelled up the length of her body, taking in her blue jeans and black lace top.

"Thanks," She whispered back. Her eyes never left his face. She had noted before that he had obviously used a vanity charm to shrink the size of his teeth a bit. He still had a small over bite but that made him all the more handsome in her opinion, having once had a very noticeable overbite as well. They stood nearly three feet apart in the room, her lost in his eyes and him waiting patiently for her to make a move.

"Hermione, we have been dating all summer. There's no need to be this shy. It's not like you haven't seen me nearly fifty times since then." Marcus laughed then and took the quick steps to close the gap between their two bodies. He cupped her face in his large, rough hand and brought his thumb up to trace the pout of her bottom lip with it. "I love your lips." She sucked her breath in and felt like she was losing it all over again. She loved the way that he made her feel as if she was dizzy and grounded all at the same time. They remained like this, frozen in the moment, his eyes on her moist wet lips and hers becoming fuzzy with the high she was getting from his touch.

Ginny cleared her throat loudly from in the foyer. Neither Marcus nor Hermione took any notice of her movement but she moved to the staircase, shooting looks to the couple, smiling guiltily to herself. "Well then," She began, coughing again, louder this time, "I'm off to bed! You two be good tonight. Try not to wake me when you get back Hermione!" Marcus leaned in finally and pressed her lips to hers. They both closed their eyes and she surprised them both by leaning in to deepen the kiss. They were scheduled to see a film and grab a bit to eat but Hermione took his hand and led him up the staircase without a word.

Ginny walked from their bathroom across the hall to her room tugging on her light blue shorts as she went. Hermione's door shut softly as she reached her own and she heard the click of the lock. She paused for a moment, one hand resting on her doorknob, the other still trying to adjust her shorts when she heard a loud and throaty moan from the other side of her friend's door. She sighed, casting a silencing charm on her room and thinking to herself that if not for the help of magic that she would never get any sleep and would have no chance of making it onto the Harpies this year or any other.

The sun was beginning to peak in the sky when Ginny came home the next morning, her hair sticking to her forehead still matting with sweat. She had cut it to make it easier to keep out of her face and out of her way but this shorter length also made it less hot when she went through a hard workout. Practice had been hard and exhausting and but even now four hours later at nine am she watched the sun start to rise and felt that she couldn't sleep if she tried. With her broom slung over her shoulder and her practice jersey still drowning her athletic form. Her dark brown practice boots came up just below her knees, covering her mud splattered trousers. Gwenog seemed to be coming down hard on the new recruits, making them not only fly several laps around their pitch but also run nearly three miles on foot. This hadn't been much of a hassle for Ginny, although veteran Chaser, Valmia Morgan, seemed to be having a rough time of it.

She entered their home, shrinking her broom to miniature size and placing it in the small ceramic bowl on the table placed in the front foyer. She kicked off her boots sorely and stripped off her disgusting trousers and jersey as well, walking gingerly into the kitchen in only her dark green camisole and cotton panties. They were the Holyhead Harpies colors and, although a very small detail, the veterans on the team had noticed her loyalty in the shower room with approving looks.

"Green is an excellent color on you, Ginny." Marcus' voice scared her and she jumped back from the counter where she was using a charm to make her coffee. He had come in behind her stealthy as ever and she hadn't even noticed. She glared at him from across the room, her face set hard as she watched his eyes travel the length of her body, pausing on her small firm breasts that were no longer supported by a sports bra. She made no notion to cover her body but stood firm with her hands on her hips watching him watch her.

"Get your fill of a look, Flint?" She snapped, bringing his attention back to her eyes.

"I didn't mean any harm," He laughed and walked across the kitchen to settle in next to her near the counter. "I was just saying, green is a good color on you. It was my house's color after all."

"This dark green is also the color of the Holyhead Harpies, if you didn't notice." She snarled, taking another firm step away from him.

He chuckled to himself and flicked his wrist to bring the sugar and the cream to him on the counter. He looked over at her as his spoon lifted and stirred while the cream and sugar added themselves. "How was practice?"

Ginny walked across the kitchen and pulled a pair of her shorts from the laundry basket by the back washroom. Hermione had easily convinced her to pick an apartment building that had access to muggle appliances, such as a washroom with a washer and dryer as well as a dishwasher and a fully stocked and upgraded kitchen. She pulled on her shorts, seeming to disengage, "Tiring. I'm exhausted."

She turned back to him to find him leaning back against the counter, the front half of his body fully distinguished to her. His chest was bare and even after the six years it had been since he had played for Hogwarts, his abs were still chiseled the way Harry's were at this moment. She noticed that he had on only black underpants, slung low around his hips. His robe was open, revealing all of him, including his very prominent erection.

"Marcus, what in the bloody hell are you doing?" She took few steps between them quickly and snatched both sides of his robe, closing them tightly around him. "You and Hermione have been dating for nearly two months now and you have been transfixed in her, what is wrong with you?"

Her smirked at her and snatched her wrist in his hand easily to pull her to him, snaking his arms around her tiny waist as he did so. His grip was like iron on her body and she began to struggle. "You can't tell me you haven't wanted this. I've seen you watching me and I've heard you making remarks about me when you thought I wasn't listening."

She moved enough to reach her wand and he released her, the smile never leaving his face. "Bugger off. Are you just leading Hermione on then, you slimy little git?"

"In the beginning, no," He responded, seemingly defeated. "Hermione is a very special girl and Merlin is she beautiful. She's also very headstrong, if I can be honest. I may as well go ahead and tell you since I'm sure when I leave that you will be running to her to tell her everything and I most likely will not see either of you again." Her eyebrow quirked and he laughed. "I'm not an idiot, Ginny; I know how you girls work. It's quite alright though, I feel as if it is past time that the delightful Miss Granger and I say our final partings. I feel that she may be falling in love with me. At the start of our relationship, I could have said that I felt the same way but now I am certain that that could never be a possibility for the two of us. I need someone who isn't so very alone in her own thoughts, who isn't so hardened by war." He paused, taking a sip from his coffee cup before finishing. "I would also like someone who doesn't wake up screaming or muttering other men's name under her breath in her sleep. Hearing about Saint Potter, your brother, or even Draco Malfoy every night is becoming a letdown."

Ginny stood before him, taking in his speech and her voice was lost for once. "I'll give you the morning to at least tell her properly, spare her feelings if you ever cared about her at all. Can you muster up enough manhood to at least do that?"

"I do care about her, Ginny, it just isn't working and I've grown restless. I will be more than happy to speak to her this morning if you would make yourself gone while I do so. Go see your beloved Harry; I hear that you have been neglecting him recently for your silly Quidditch team. Go hold him close today and be grateful that you have found someone who loves you despite everything that you are." It was then that Ginny realized just how disarmed he was, standing before her with his honest soul bared for her to see. She turned, snatching a jumper from the pile of fresh linen and heading out the front door. She felt shaken in herself and wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with Harry and just forget that the rest of the world exists. Sometimes she forgot just how much the war had taken from all of them- Even Marcus Flint.

Marcus stood watching her go and stared at the spot where she once stood long after he heard the door slam shut. Nearly twenty minutes later, Hermione came down the stairs carefully, her enchantment that held her curls sleek and straight had gone out and left her with hectic curls rushing every which way. She stifled a yawn and took a drink from Ginny's coffee cup. Deciding it was too cold for her she took her wand and slowly turned circles over the cup, bringing it to a simmering heat. He turned to her, replacing his vacant stare with his tell tale smile.

He walked over to her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, and her hair – anything he could reach. She giggled into him as he made his way down her neck and to her collar bones. His kisses soon became small but firm bites and her giggles turned quickly into small little moans. Still busy with his mouth upon her skin, he slipped the over sized t-shirt over head, leaving her nearly naked before him. He stopped for a moment, stepping back and taking in the sight of her standing there in only her soft pink panties. The light came in through the open window lighting up her body and casting shadows where her full nipples stood erect for him.

He sighed and took a step forward, capturing his mouth with his. His rough hands found her waist and he set her up on the countertop before him, slipping her panties down over her hips and letting them fall to the floor. Hermione leaned back across the counter, laying her body out on display for him as he entered her. His hands on her hips were like anchors tethering him to this world around him. In that moment, nothing else mattered to either of them aside from the swaying of their bodies together and the heat under his fingertips, one worrying over the soft pink bud of her lady flower and the others holding her small hip so hard it would surely leave a bruise. Her moans become faster in their haze and she forgot the world around her, including, unfortunately, the contraceptive charm, as she reached her climax. The tightening of her body around him sent his body reeling and the tremors rose up in him as he reached his as well, filling her with his seed.

Where she should have brought her wand to her stomach and said the small spell taught to her not very long ago. Instead, she whispered to him in the haze of the morning dew and light, "I love you Marcus." He ducked low, kissing her flat stomach and did not reply.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione padded quietly down the hallway of the East Wing of Malfoy Manor. She was trying quite in vain to find the library that Draco had promised her. It seemed being with the Malfoy family was much simpler than her life at home. Before Hermione even woke in the morning, Zack was already awake and running through the halls searching for 'Grandmother'. She still hadn't quite worked out the way that she felt about Zackary addressing the Malfoy's as such. They were always kind to him and in their time of need, both of Draco's parents had stepped up to become perfect hosts. At the same time, Hermione had a very hard time letting go of past grudges and the deep seeded fears that Lucius had planted in her mind when she was a young girl. She found that as time went by that she saw Lucius less and less. Often times, he stayed out of the manor for the entirety of the day and didn't make it home until well after supper. He always seemed exhausted, having hardly a word to say until Zackary began his endless stream of jabber. For some reason that neither Hermione nor Draco could comprehend Lucius broke every rule that they had learned about him in their lifetimes when in regards to Zack. Whenever Zackary talked to him, he listened intently, nodding where appropriate and trying his hardest to converse with the seemingly non-stop questioning and statements of discovery oh his day.

Nearly a week had gone by while Hermione, Draco, and Zackary sought refuge at Malfoy Manor. They slept in the same bed every night, Zackary snoring quietly between the two adults, none the wiser of the state of unease the rest of the Wizarding World was facing. On the third evening of being in the manor, Hermione brought up the idea of Draco returning to the pitch and perhaps trying to restart his normal life. With this suggestion came the implication that both she and Zackary would go back to their home and begin the preparations for the joint funeral for the Flint family and begin their lives. The idea brought anxiety to her and she could feel her chest tightening at the idea of being away from Draco again. Lucius had stepped in to inform her that that idea would not be an option.p

_"The funeral has already been taken care of. There was a very small memorial held for the Flints at the Ministry yesterday afternoon." Lucius had told Hermione and Draco quietly over the breakfast table. Narcissa had already taken Zack to the sprawling back patio to let him run in the grass._

_"You didn't tell me that, Mr. Malfoy! I should have been there. I am his widow. Zackary should have been there for that. They are all the family he has left on his father's side. They are his entire family and now they're gone. He didn't even get to say goodbye! You had no right to do that to him or to me. Draco, tell your father he is wrong in this." She all but exploded, pushing her chair back abruptly and rising to her feet as her voice rose._

_Draco's eyes went from his father to Hermione across the table. He leaned back in his chair and observed the moment, taking a small drink of his orange juice and remaining silent. She shot him a look that meant death and sat down in a huff._

_"Miss Flint, please, calm down. I did not conceal this information to distress you. You haven't even told Zackary about his father's passing yet. Luckily for you, he is so used to Marcus being gone that he no longer questions his absence. If you will notice, it is quiet soon for there to be a service of any sort held. There were no bodies recovered from either of the scenes and this is just one of the many brutal murders that have happened in the last few days. Several old families are being taken out of existence. Why, even the Potter family has taken to hiding since yesterday morning."_

_Hermione gasped, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. "The Potters? But Ginny just found out that she's pregnant. Nothing can happen to them. Where have they gone?"_

_"Forgive me but that is the sole point of hiding. No one is sure where they are but the Weasley family felt it would be for the best if they remain hidden for the time being, especially with the young Mrs. Potter being in such a delicate state. Harry wants to ensure that nothing happens to his wife or his son."_

_"But the Weasleys, what are they doing to remain safe? Surely they will go into hiding as well?"_

_"That is the plan. By the end of this evening, every member of the Weasley family, including the wives and children of each of the boys, will suddenly find themselves off the grid and also quite safe."_

_"How is it possible to round up every one of the Weasley bunch?" Draco asked, avoiding Hermione's cold glare from his question._

_"Surely you haven't forgotten about Ronald Weasley, Draco?"_

_"He doesn't exactly come up in every day conversation, father. I try not to think about Weaslebee whenever possible actually. What does he have to do with the safe keeping of his family? He can hardly manage to keep himself upright, let alone protect an entire hoard of redheaded persons." Draco laughed at his own joke and no one else in the room joined in._

_"Mr. Malfoy, how would you know anything about Ronald, exactly?" Hermione asked._

_"Ronald Weasley is one of my closest acquaintances, if truth be told. I will ignore the shocked looks on both of your faces. As you both know, Mr. Weasley joined the Aurors after the war had finally ended and quickly made a name for himself there. You are both very unaware that he has since become one of the most influential people in the entire Ministry. We have a relationship mostly based on the goods and knowledge I can provide for him and the Ministry. We also have a mutual respect for each other and the influence that each of us hold over our peers." Lucius paused for a moment and then laughed to himself. "It doesn't hurt that we both have a taste for a very old and very fine brand of scotch and a fine barkeep named Lola who works at a small bar in downtown muggle London. You will not repeat that last part to Narcissa if either of you want to remain guests under my roof."_

_Hermione and Draco exchanged astonished looks. Lucius gave them a moment to process before continuing. "Mr. Weasley is how I have been in the know about every activity that has been taking place in our society since the get go. He knows how important it is to me to keep my family safe. He also knows that you and Zackary are here, Miss Flint and as you can guess, some feelings die hard. He wishes to keep you both as safe as houses until this whole storm is over. Which brings me to the point about the funeral… I am very aware that you wished to attend and make appearances. I understand that, truly, I do. This memorial was just for show. We had a Ministry official explain before the memorial that both you and Zackary are currently in hiding for your own safety after someone very obviously tried to extinguish the Flint line. Everyone is very aware that Zackary is the only heir to the Flint fortune and if some well placed gossip was distributed that you may or may not be pregnant with a second child from your late husband well, it couldn't hurt."_

_"You told people what exactly? I am in no way pregnant."_

_Narcissa slipped into the room with Zack in tow, his small hand grasping hers tightly. She eyed them all sternly with looks that expressly forbid them to finish the conversation at the current moment. "We were thirsty and needed juice." She declared, helping Zack into a booster seat between Hermione and herself._

_"Hi mommy!" Zack declared brightly, picking up his cup and taking a large drink._

_"Hi baby," Hermione smiled, touching his dark curls with her fingertips. "Use both hands please; we don't want you to spill."_

_He nodded at her and took the cup with both of his hands. Every adult in the room had their eyes on him smiling lightly to themselves. She watched each of them carefully wondering how it could be possible for people who were in no way related to her child to love him so much._

_"So, Zack, what do you want to do today?" Draco asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table._

_Zackary's eyes instantly lit up when Draco addressed him. "I wanted to go flying but Grandmother said that it is going to rain soon so we couldn't. But I don't care if it rains. I can fly right through the rain. You can fly in the rain too can't you, Draco?"_

_"She was right about the rain, Zach." Hermione chided lightly. "You need to listen when Narcissa tells you something. She only has your best interest at heart. She just wants to make sure you're safe just like mommy and daddy do."_

_Zack paused for a moment, taking his eyes off of Draco and examining Hermione carefully. "Daddy? Are we going to see daddy today?" Narcissa and Lucius watched her carefully as they both became suddenly thirsty, picking up their tea and sipping it._

_"Um…" She paused for a minute looking from him and then to Draco momentarily. "No, Zack, we aren't going to see daddy today. I'm afraid that we won't be seeing daddy for a long while now."_

_"You're going to be spending time with me for a while. Is that okay, Zack?" Draco asked, brushing his fingers shyly over Hermione's hand. She blushed slightly, pointedly avoiding his gaze and watching her toddler's face carefully._

_"Yeah, that will be fun! You're always lots of fun. Can I play with Grandmother and Grandfather today?" He asked, his interest peaking on the small plate of biscuits the house elf sat in front of him. He grabbed one with his small fingers and began to pull it apart to stuff into his mouth._

_"Of that's what you want to do today, then of course you can, baby. Is that alright with you, Mrs. Malfoy?"_

_"I would love to spend time with him today, Hermione. And please, call me Narcissa." She patted Zack's small shoulder and turned to the house elf to bring honey to the table. "You two find something to do today. Lucius and I will take good care of Zack."_

_Draco exited the kitchen first, his hands running through his thick blond hair. Hermione followed slowly behind, checking one last time over her shoulder as she exited. She paused momentarily as the door swung shut, hearing Zack address the Malfoys._

_"Grandmother, Grandfather," He said happily through his biscuits. "You want to know a secret?" Hermione's heart skipped for a beat and she exhaled slowly through her mouth, waiting. "I like Draco better than I like daddy. Is that bad?"_

_Narcissa giggled to herself, "No, sweetheart. That isn't bad at all."_

p

Hermione tried the door to her right, jiggling the handle as quietly as she could manage. When nothing gave way, she moved on to the next door and tried it as well. She could have sworn that Draco had said it was down this hallway. She had been trying doors for what seemed like the better part of an hour. If truth were to be told, she was lost mainly in her own thoughts and not only the manor. Each hallway seemed to bring her closer and closer to the center of the Malfoy's home. The paintings on the wall stared at her curiously, eyeing her with mistrust. It was almost as if they could tell that she was a muggleborn in this pureblood home.

She rounded another corner and found herself looking down a hallway with nine doors on either side. Surely their home couldn't possibly be this big on the inside. It looked massive looking at it from outdoors but the hallways were never ending, twisting and turning in on themselves as they weaved through a maze.

"Are you lost, young lady?" A painting on the wall called to her. The woman's eyes were a deep shade of blue, they caught Hermione's attention from across the hall and she found herself walking over to the silver frame.

"Yes, I am, actually. I was searching for the library. Draco told me I could find it on this wing but I must have gotten a bit mixed up."

"Well, if Draco told you it was here, I am sure it will not be. Draco never stepped foot in the library at this Manor as a child. Although in adulthood, I heard it said that he frequents it quite often. In any case, it is not here. Tell me, who are you, child?" The lady in the painting draped herself across the large couch provided in her painting, staring out onto Hermione.

"Hermione Flint." She responded without thinking. It had been so long since she had used her maiden name that it seemed odd to call herself Granger again.

"Flint? You come from a very lovely family. I knew your great grandmother at one point in time, she was a fine woman. Quiet and timid, not unlike you. She had your brown eyes as well. Not to worry, when you marry Draco, your children will inherit the blue of the Malfoy eyes. They all do. My eyes are absolutely lovely, not to worry." She tutted happily to herself for a moment while Hermione watched on.

"Draco and I aren't to be married."

"Oh, but you love him, dear. I can see it in your face, in the way you say his name. You love the boy, don't try to deny it. Of course you will marry him. You will raise up strong and healthy Malfoy children. I can already tell. I am a seer, you know. I can see it now, a little boy, yes." The lady in the painting paused for a moment and rose to the edge of her frame, coming level with Hermione. Hermione took a step back, startled by the clarity in which she could see the woman now. Her eyes were an unearthly blue, staring out from her frame and seemingly into Hermione's own. "And a little rose of a girl. She will be as lovely as she is gifted. She will be gifted just as I am."

The woman smiled for a moment and then cracked into peels of loud laughter.

"I… I have to go." Hermione took another step back and then turned to quickly walk away from the woman. She turned the corner and broke into a brisk run, not stopping until she reached the front sitting room, nearly knocking Draco over in her haste it make it in the door.

"I met one of your relatives, Draco." She breathed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

"Oh Merlin, this can't be good news." He laughed, taking a step back from her and kissing her cheek. "What did this relative say?"

"Not a lot. She just gave me some things to think about."


	6. Chapter 6

"Pull your coat on, Zack. It's getting chilly outside." Hermione heard mumbling behind her as well as the scuff of little rain boots on the marble floors. She turned to see Zack dragging his coat on the floor, kicking the ground with each step. Little scuff marks could be seen where his feet drug and she fought down annoyance, knowing house elves would be there within minutes of their departure to clean up the mess.

"Mommy, I don't want to wear a coat. It's not even cold." He pushed the dark brown curls from his forehead and sighed, dropping his coat onto the ground beside him. She bent to retrieve it, giving her own exasperated sigh in return. Zack kicked his boot against the floor again, making another scuff, she noticed and also a loud noise.

"It's still raining." Hermione turned to her son, still on bent knee and took his small hand in hers. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was, in fact, only four. He seldom acted his age, seeming to possess knowledge and maturity beyond his short years. Zack looked away from her, choosing instead to study the crown molding around the edge of the back entrance hall. "Zack, listen to mommy."

He tilted his head up higher and studied the ceiling, pointedly avoiding her eyes. She found her patience entirely gone from the situation. She had no intention of dragging a fussy four year old out into the rain. She knew from experience that this afternoon could only end in mud and fighting the bath that would come after. Zack was bound to cry and possibly tantrum at least once in this day. Hermione stood, keeping his hand inside her larger one and turned from the door. She took a step and Zack resisted, realizing that she no longer intended them to leave the house. He pulled back from her, twisting his hand in her grasp and trying to free himself. After a moment fighting, he let his feet slip out from under him and he slid to the ground, his head nearly hitting the marble. She didn't bother to look back but instead quickly scooped up his now struggling form in her arms and attempted to carry him from the room. He put both hands on her shoulder and tried to push himself away from her. Four years of being a mother had taught her many things, one of which being how to control her child when he was in a mood. Admittedly, Zack rarely acted out or threw tantrums unless there was a reason behind them. She couldn't help but wonder if there was some motivation to fuel this fight or if he was somehow picking up bad habits from spending so much time with the elder Malfoys lately.

"What is wrong with you, Zackary? You never act this way." He ignored her whispered questions and pushed himself from her shoulder again.

She made her way through the manor with him now sobbing in her arms. He had soon realized that he couldn't get away and took to shaking his head lightly while he cried, rubbing his face against the fabric of her blouse. They passed by the study that Lucius frequently occupied. Zackary noticed their locations and let out a long, pitiful wail in hopes of attracting the attention of his 'Grandparents'. Narcissa came rushing from her husband's study with Lucius in tow, both coming to investigate why Zackary could possibly be making such noise. Hermione eyed them warily but did not stop to speak or let Zackary down to run to either of them, although he extended his arms, reaching for Narcissa and crying. Narcissa made to say something, to offer to take him. Lucius watched the exchange and, shaking his head, took his wife's hand to lead her back into the study, away from the young mother and her child.

Hermione was extremely grateful. The one thing she did not need assistance with from the Malfoy family was parenting. Draco had been a horrible and unruly child at school. He was cruel and nasty to anyone who tried to get close to him. Although Hermione was not entirely sure where to place blame for his actions and thought process, she was very aware that she did not want the same people who raised him to attempt to parent her son.

They reached the hallway where both of their rooms were housed. Hermione had requested another room of Draco that had a smaller room attached so that Zackary could sleep there. She didn't want him to go through the process of weaning himself from sleeping with her again. She used a charm to keep the outside entrance to his room locked so he couldn't slip off in the morning. It also had the serious perk being that no one could slip into his room while she slept.

By the time she had reached the entrance to her room, Zackary had his head lying on her shoulder, breathing slowly through his mouth. She could feel him beginning to fall asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She brought her wand out one handed to unlock the door while holding Zack close with the other. The lock sprang open nearly silently and she breathed out with silent relief as she slipped through the door and into the room she and Draco had been sharing. This room was larger than the previous one they had occupied, located farther away from the main heart of the manor. They had moved here after it had become apparent there was no way she and Zack could leave or return to their normal lives. The wizarding world was in a state of panic, not unlike the war. People were hiding in their homes or disappearing all together. Some wizards and witches continued to attend their jobs and go out into the public. Mr. Malfoy was one of these wizards, with the aid of Ronald Weasley's tips of what location would be safe at what times.

Hermione shook her head, attempting to clear the dark thoughts gathered there and entered the room Zack had been occupying. Narcissa had had the elves bring up an entire toy chest of treasures for Zack to play with when he was having quiet time. She couldn't help but notice that the bedspread and curtains had been changed to the deep green of Slytherin colors. She had no doubt that the other adults in the house were trying to sway her son to the side of Slytherin. Zack let out a small snore as she lay him down in his bed, tucking the comforter down around his body. His hand made his way to his curls and he wrapped his fingers around a few, drifting finally into a deep sleep. Quietly, she withdrew from the room and closed the door behind her.

"How's he doing, Mione?" Draco whispered from the entrance of their room. She jumped when she heard his voice, turning quickly to face him. He looked tired, dark circles forming under his eyes. He had neglected his facial hair as well, letting the blond shadow form across his jaw line. Her expression softened when he smiled back at her.

"He was just tired, Draco. Sometimes children get tired and act fussy."

"Mother and Father said that he was screaming the entire way to our room. What happened?" He closed the distance between them to wrap his arms around her small form and draw her closer to him. She tensed at his touch, doing all but pulling away from him.

"He was tired. He wanted to go outside but wouldn't put his coat on. I decided it was time for a nap and he did not agree with me. These things happen sometimes." She spoke through gritted teeth, mentally seething at being questioned on the parental decision she had made with her son.

Draco paused for a second and moved away from her slightly. He studied her face and the apparent anger behind her delicate features. "Hey, Mione, come on, don't act like this with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Draco. I also don't appreciate being questioned about my child from you or your parents. This isn't the first time I've had to put my foot down with Zack and I'm very sure it won't be the last. I know what I am doing with my own child." She took a step back from him, brushing his arms away. Her cheeks burned pinker with each word. She kept her voice to a whisper though, minding her sleeping toddler in the next room.

"Don't treat me like Marcus. I know that things happen and that sometimes he's going to get fussy. That's fine. He can scream and cry and kick from one side of this Manor to the other and that's not a problem." He whispered back to her, holding his ground a couple feet away from her.

"Your parents-" She began again at him slowly, trying to keep both her anger and voice down but he cut her off before she could even begin her argument.

"My parents are not his parents and they don't matter when it comes to parenting him."

"Neither do you. You're not his father." The words hung heavy in the air between them and she regretted them almost immediately. He frowned at her, furrowing his eyebrows. For a moment neither of them spoke and he stared at her, clearly hurt. "Well, you're not his father, Draco. He's not your responsibility, he's mine. You don't have to worry about him or me or how we are. I am very thankful for you and your parents for letting me stay here but there is no need for you to go as far as you have. "

"Oh, that's great. Thanks Hermione. I don't _have _to worry about you two. That makes it so much easier because now I don't have to worry or even care about either of you. You have now released me from the burden of loving the both of you. Thank you for that." He crossed the room and sat himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. They sat in a thick silence for a moment, Draco rubbing his temples gingerly.

"You love us?" She whispered after a moment, her voice barely audible. "You love me?"

"What?" He looked up, surprised.

"You love me?" Hermione asked again, tears forming in hazel eyes. "You love us both?"

"Of course I love you, Hermione. I'm so in love with you that it makes me sick."

"Draco…" She began, wringing her hands together. She turned her feet, he noticed. It was a habit she had when she was nervous, twisting her hands and turning her feet on her heel.

"There's no need to say it. I know you don't feel the same. That's fine. I realize that this was not as much for you as it was for me." He sighed heavily and stood, making his way to the doorway. She remained silent behind him, watching his back.

"I love you, Draco."

He awoke with a start, grabbing blindly at the blankets on their bed. Beside him, Hermione slept soundly. He traced the shadows falling across her face with his eyes, taking in each feature. He considered ducking down to take her face in his hands and kissing her but he didn't want to wake her. She was perfection in all of its forms to him, her brow knitted in frustration as she slept. He had noted on several different occasions that even in sleep she still couldn't power her brain down to get some rest. He wondered what she was thinking of, concentrating so hard in her dreams. Was it him there beside her in her adventures, holding her hand? Did she dream of him now or when they were children when he was so unkind to her? He raised his hand to run his thumb across her forehead, smooth out the thought lines and wrinkles there but thought better of it. He stared for a moment longer then slipped silently from their bed to make his way to the bathroom attached to their room.

"Lumos." The door closed behind him soundlessly. Draco avoided the light from his wand, squinting into the darkness. His eyes had yet to adjust to the light and he instantly regretted his decision to use light at all. This bathroom was in a part of the house that he never normally visited but he had no doubt that his reflexes were good enough that he could make his way around without much trouble, even in pitch blackness. He had a way with that, it would seem. Growing up, he could get lost in the dark maze of the manor trying to find his mother when he would awake from a bad dream. It was almost as if the halls and doors moved whenever they pleased to. He knew it was more likely that the portraits moved and he had no solid markers to guide his way.

He used the facilities and turned to the shower, extinguishing his wand. The hot water was calling to him through the pipes. It had been weeks since he had been on his broom or seen his teammates and it showed in his body. He could feel his muscles becoming sluggish, unrefined without the constant training that he normal subjected himself to. Coming to his parent's home had been almost a vacation to this point, spending all of his time with Hermione and Zack. Although, he had to admit, up until now, she had been very guarded. He had to fight to be close to her. The touches they shared were seldom and when they were close, he initiated it. Every kiss was a battle and she would usually wince away from him. Before this afternoon, he had begun to wonder if bringing them here had been a mistake. He worried she was pulling away and beginning to resent him.

He stepped into the spray of the hot water, marveling over how good it felt falling over him. His muscles were slightly sore from chasing Zack that morning and the rigorous activities that he and Hermione had found themselves up to merely hours before while Zack slept soundly in the silenced room aside from them. Steam began to rise in the bathroom, he noticed. Draco leaned his head against the cool stone walls of the shower, closing his eyes to the darkness and trying to focus his mind.

Quidditch had been cancelled until further notice, having a good portion of its players going into hiding. Without him, the team could function, albeit badly. Then Potter had also gone underground. Within a week of the first attacks, four more players had also stopped showing up to practice and owls could not find their locations. Lucius had reported all of this back to him after a very long outing into the city. He had also brought back a letter for Hermione from Weaselbee. Draco had to bite his tongue as she fawned all over it and nearly began to cry in the sitting room while reading over it. He couldn't help but wonder whether she and Zack would be more comfortable with the Weasleys. They had always been very kind to her, even after they discovered that she and their youngest son had been seeing each other in private.

He had never asked her how that started or ended, not wanting his jealousy to spark. From the basic rough workings he had gotten from Marcus and Hermione, they were still seeing each other off and on when she met Marcus. By the end of their summer together, Ron had moved on to none other than Romilda Vane, something that apparently infuriated Hermione. She had tried to explain to him about a love potion gone awry when they were at school. Personally, he had met Romilda at a few social gatherings thrown at the Ministry. She seemed to have matured quite nicely, personality wise. She was no longer a silly, fluttery thing but a war hardened fighter. She worked alongside Weaselbee in the Auror department. Draco vaguely remembered his father mentioning that she had moved into the Department of Mysteries recently. He had been curious as to how his father knew that or cared, but with the secret Weasley friendship coming to light, it made a lot more sense now.

He let his mind work over a few topics as his hands worked a lather of shampoo into his hair. He thought first of Hermione. Then again, his mind always went first to Hermione. He thought of her face and her pink lips, parted or pouted or puckered for a kiss. His mind lingered on her frame, so small and fragile inside his arms when they slept next to each other. Her legs wound their way through his own every time, wrapping him up inside her grip. He wondered whether she had slept the same with Marcus in their bed on the nights he was home. She could possibly have done the same with Weasley as well on the few occasions they had lain next to each other after an evening of what he could only assume was horrible awkward ginger groping. He couldn't help but imagine her pretty curls tangling themselves up in either of the other two men's hands, her head tucked into the crook of a shoulder, them breathing in the scent of her being so close.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest. It was not the first time that jealousy had found a home inside of him where Hermione was involved. Draco had felt the green eyed monster curl itself inside of his body before, grabbing his stomach and heart, squeezing in tight little intervals until he came dangerously close to punching something. He had experienced this over and over throughout the stretch of relationship. She had tried her hardest to keep any sort of public displays of affection with her husband to the very minimum. On most days, that was simple but there were some times, especially when Marcus was drinking, that he lost the ability to keep his hands off her. It was times like these when Draco found it sickening to be in their presence. He would watch, a fake smile plastered on his face, trying his absolute damndest to not hex Marcus. Hermione would smile, playfully swatting Marcus's hands away from her body, teasing him with a kiss on the forehead. Marcus would turn away, laughing and scooping up Zack, convinced of the perfection of his life. She shot Draco looks over his shoulder, apologizing with her eyes, begging for forgiveness. He knew there was nothing to forgive. They had made the decision for her to stay with Marcus together. Neither of them had liked it but they saw no other way around it.

Draco rinsed himself under the hot water and reached for a bar of soap, taking his time with the expulsion of the dirt from his body. Everything he did recently was at a leisurely pace, slower than what he would normally do. He felt sheltered in the warmth of his childhood home, friendlier and much more inviting now than it had ever been in his youth. It seemed now a safe haven, guarding him, Hermione, and Zack from the terrors of the outside world. In the last war, his whole family had been thrown in the middle, playing base for the Death Eaters at their home. There was never a moment when they weren't afraid. Now he felt as if they remained untouched. He heard rumor through his father of deaths counts rising, witches and wizards disappearing. There was fear throughout the streets and no one went out. People were afraid to speak to their neighbors, no one really sure who was being targeted or why. It reminded him of last time and he tried to push it from his mind. He tried to push the guilt from his mind as well, with much difficulty.

He found himself relishing in his morning times with Hermione. They had never been able to sleep together. Not in a conventional sense. There were short naps in afternoons or small lags of sleeping in between whatever love making they had. They had never had the experience of lying together at night, tangled up in each other's presence before now. Before Marcus died they were constantly hiding from everyone, making it hard to spend more than a few hours alone together without Zackary there as an excuse. He always asked for more time, attempted to steal her away for another few hours, take one more kiss from her. No matter how many times he kissed her, hugged her, held her in his arms, fucked her, it was never enough. He was always left hungry and raw, his heart aching for her and his body missing the warmth of her presence with him. He could lay with her for hours in the morning now; just watching her take deep sleeping breathes and be content. For some reason, he always woke first. She seemed to have endless energy but if left uninterrupted, she could sleep well past noon, seeming oblivious to the world around her.

After a few more moments in the shower, he rinsed himself a final time and reached to turn the water off. Somewhere in the Manor he could hear movement, noise. The silencing charm he cast on their bedroom was still in place so he knew that it couldn't be Hermione stirring in the dark although she could be awake and around the rest of the house. Draco dried himself with a swish and flick of his wand then pulled his trousers on wordlessly. The noises outside of his bedroom grew louder. He guessed that something was going on downstairs but couldn't understand why. They hadn't had visitors for the entirety of their stay at the Manor. He pulled the crisp button up shirt he had brought to change on and did the buttons as he entered their bedroom. Hermione was nowhere to be found as he had expected. Silently, he opened the door to find Zack still sound asleep in his bed. He cast a locking charm on the child's door and left to find the source of the noises.

He found himself downstairs a few moments later in the front foyer and his blood ran cold at the sight before him. His parents stood to the side of the room, his mother being comforted quietly by his father. Her body was being supported by him, swallowing up her sobbing form in his arms. Lucius looked on, his face set in a grievous frown. At the entry of the room stood Hermione, her small form shaking, deep sobs rolling from her mouth. After a moment she lost all of her control and crumpled forward onto herself, her arms clutching her sides and her head bent. Draco found himself torn between wanting to comfort her and the man before them all.

Harry Potter stood, holding an infant in his arms. The child was silent, a shock of black hair on its head, large blue eyes staring out from beneath a blanket. There as blood on the blanket and caked over Harry. Dirty was also present there on his jumper and his face smudged with soot. Harry's eyes locked with his as tears streaked wordlessly down his dirty face, blurring his glasses and sight. Harry swayed on his feet, a flush rising up his neck and face. Draco stepped out to steady him, his hands finding the baby and somehow Harry slipped the child into his arms. For a moment no one spoke. All that could be heard was the sound of crying from both Hermione and Narcissa. Although the situation was clear to all, Draco found himself helping Harry slip from standing to his knees on their marble floors.

"Draco, the terrorist attacked today." Harry choked out, his head hung low, fixing his eyes on the floor. Draco opened his mouth to speak but no words would form. He stared down at the little one in his arms who now yawned widely and closed its eyes.

"Ginny went into labor early this morning. The baby had just been born when we heard the attack. She was too weak to move and I couldn't leave her." Hermione burst into a fresh round of tears and Draco found himself resisting going to her and taking her in his arms and away from this place, away from her pain. "She's gone… Ginny didn't make it."


End file.
